One Last Farewell
by fannypants
Summary: The plague strikes Gondor, and Glorfindel, Haldir, Legolas and Prince Eldarion must embark on a quest to save Lady Arwen, while Aragorn fights to save his torn kingdom. Aragorn/Arwen, Eldarion/Legolas, Glorfindel/Haldir.
1. One Last Farewell

One Last Farewell  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. And *like* you didn't know that already.  
  
  
Aragorn's grief after Gandalf passed to the West. Aragorn's POV, introspective piece... slight Aragorn/Arwen... yes, I've been meaning to write a bit of Aragorn/Arwen for a LONG while... poor girl doesn't get enough attention. It's all Legolas this, Frodo that... (coughhypocritecough) Also some Eldarion/Legolas (SLASH) in here, so if you don't like that, skip out the bit at the end... or just don't read this. Please review!  
  
-Nefthoron, the girl that can write het as well as slash! (victory sign)  
  
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Hello, Gandalf. I guess it has been a while since I thought about you, eh? Well, I guess I've just been busy. Gondor has become surprisingly populated ever since I became King, but the Elves are moving away to the West, following you, my dear friend, and it pains me to see it, for I the two Elves that mean more than the world to me fading with them.  
  
  
One of them, my oldest and dearest friend, Legolas Greenleaf. He loses his innocent radiance with every battle he fights for his kingdom, which is still plagued by evil. But his beauty, both inside and outside, shines brighter than ever before. He has been labeled the Morning Star of the Elves since out Quest, Gandalf, to match Arwen's Evening Star. Many desire nothing more than to take him to their beds, especially among mortal men and women, but to me, he fades compared to the other elf I hold close to my heart.  
  
  
Arwen. The beautiful Evenstar, who gave her immortality to me. Her radiance outshines all things on this place of Middle-Earth, but yet she still longs to part with the other Elves to the West. How I wish I could go with them, Gandalf, to see you, Elrond, and dear Frodo once again... but Valinor is no place for a mortal man. I am undeserving of everlasting peace and happiness. But she deserves it, and I feel so wrong for wanting her to stay, Gandalf... but I need her so, and I will never stop loving her, even if she does decide to go West. I will stand by her, and I will watch her go and hold my head up high without a trace of regret, because I love her enough to let her go. I hope you understand, my old friend.  
  
  
I have a son, as well. His name is Eldarion, and he is growing to be a wonderful, intelligent man who is fair and just in both face and ways. He has recently taken a shine to Legolas, however. I do not know how that will turn out from that. I wish you could have met him, Gandalf. But your time had come, along with the other Ringbearers. I hope you are happy, wherever you are.   
  
  
I guess the moral behind this message is that I miss you, Gandalf, my friend. I hope I have become something that you can be proud of. I have become Isildur's Heir- the true King of Gondor. I hope you hear my words, wherever you are. You lived a good life here on Middle-Earth. And you will always be remembered as long as my bloodline resides in the White City.  
  
  
Farewell, my friend.  
  
  
-------  
  
  
  
Aragorn, High King of Gondor and Heir of Isildur looked out over the ocean with haunted eyes. So many of his friends had passed now... and it would not be long until he fell into the Halls of Mandos. He had a long time yet in mortal years, but not when one had been raised as an elf. He ran a hand through his chin length hair, trying not to think about the streaks of grey. Suddenly, a yell of "LEGOLAS!!!" caught his ears. He looked down towards the sandy beach nearby.  
  
  
Blonde hair flashed in the sunlight as Legolas Greenleaf, youngest Prince of Mirkwood and the Morning Star of the Elves ran away from the young man who was chasing him, Prince Eldarion of Gondor. Legolas slowed, and the dark-haired man launched himself at the beautiful elf, knocking him down onto the sand.  
  
  
"Caught you!" He chorused gleefully, looking down at his friend and crush with a grin. Legolas sighed,  
  
  
"Alright, you win. Get off me now."  
  
  
"Maybe I do not wish to..." Eldarion's voice was husky as he leaned down to steal a kiss from the wriggling elf, who was pinned under the Gondorian Prince's weight.   
  
  
"ELDARION!!" Legolas shrieked, knocking his friend off him and reversing their positions.   
  
  
"Mm, feisty. Just how I like my women..." Eldarion said jokingly, and yelped as Legolas whacked him on the nose, before stalking off  
  
  
Aragorn chuckled, before gazing out towards the ocean again.  
  
  
"They seem to be bonding well," Arwen's arms slipped around his waist, and Aragorn turned to look at his wife. She was starting to show slight signs of age, but she was still as beautiful as she had ever been, because the small flaws humanised her. His son was in love with Legolas' ethereal beauty- and Legolas was an angel, he was the first to admit that- after all, he was the one who generally had to sit through Eldarion's bad attempts at writing poetry for the highly-amused elf.  
  
  
"Yes." He nodded, "It worries me. Do you think Eldar' actually realises quite how old Legolas is?"  
  
  
"Of course he does," Arwen frowned, "Do not judge him for his youth, Estel. After all..." She leaned her head against his shoulder, "Did you know how old I was when we first fell in love?"  
  
  
"...no," Aragorn smiled slightly, "But Legolas-"  
  
  
"Will always do right by our son. He always has done, ever since Eldarion was a child," Arwen said softly, "And Eldarion was granted immortality by my father, remember? Perhaps they shall remain together... when we pass on...?"   
  
  
"Perhaps," Aragorn nodded, and leaned down to kiss his wife. "If my son feels the same for Legolas as I felt for you all those years ago, my dear wife, then they shall be together forever."  
  
  
"Amin mela lle, my husband..." Arwen whispered against his lips.  
  
  
"I love you too, my wife." Aragorn replied, and then, smiling at each other, they walked down towards the beach where an irate blonde elf and a very-pleased-with-himself half-elf waited for them. As they moved away, Aragorn looked back one last time over the oceans to Valinor.  
  
  
(Farewell, my friend...)  
  
  
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	2. The Plague of Gondor

One Last Farewell  
  
Chapter 2: In Sickness  
  
Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own. But then, I'm sure you knew that, being omniscient and omnipotent as I'm sure you all are, and that you know that Lord of the Rings belongs to J. R.Tolkien.  
  
Well, this story... which *was* a one-shot... has suddenly increased in length due to pleading from Lady of Legolas, who has a distinct liking for the Eldarion/Legolas couple. *cheers* I made a ship! *bounces* And although one could never see it *cough*Aragorn/Legolasbandwagonslut*cough*, I have a thing about odd couples. Although I definitely draw the line at Gimli/Legolas. The very thought makes me squick. I'm so shallow, I should reflect myself *hangs head in shame*. Right, and as in all of my other stories, apart from the movieverse one, I am completely disregarding the fact that poor lil' Haldir died at Helm's Deep.  
  
Okay, so I have ideas for this story, and it gets the big slash stamp.  
  
Pairings: Eldarion/Legolas, Aragorn/Arwen, Glorfindel/Haldir.  
  
Well, anyone who wanted the next part, here we go.... I hope I haven't disappointed anybody. Please don't forget to review and tell me what you think, dears.  
  
-Nefthoron  
  
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There was uproar.  
  
All the way through Gondor, the towns were in riot, some were burning, in desperation. The region was far from the happy, calm place it had been just a month before. All through the streets of Minas Tirith, there were the screams of terrified people.  
  
They screamed, "Plague, Plague!"  
  
The Sapping Sickness had hit Gondor. And now all of its residents feared for their lives, save for the Elves of Ithilien, who feared not the terrifying disease. It did not affect them, and the grave-faced immortals acted as healers for the sick, and it was said that more and more of the beautiful light went out from their eyes each time that a person died.  
  
Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, Lord of Ithilien and the Morning Star of the Elves, if you wished to announce all of his titles, was not having a very happy day. In fact, he would call it a very *bad* day. He sighed, turning the key in the lock of Prince Eldarion's bedroom door. The noble Prince was inside, sleeping- Legolas was taking no chances. Though immortal the young half-elf may be, he was not immune to sickness and disease.  
  
"That was good of you," There was a voice behind him, and Legolas smiled to himself. He had sensed Aragorn's presence long before the Man announced himself.  
  
"I know," He replied levelly, "He is the heir to the throne of Gondor. It is my duty to defend my lord and my lord's children."  
  
"Now, now, Legolas..." Aragorn chuckled, "So formal, my friend. Yet, you always seem to become so whenever we speak of my son..."  
  
"Let it be, Aragorn." Legolas sighed, "Now was there a particular reason you sought me out?"  
  
"I am worried for Arwen," Aragorn said frankly, "One of her personal servants has taken ill, and she is not... at her best."  
  
"Oh... oh, no..." Legolas looked away, fighting the sad emotion that threatened to appear in his face.  
  
"The worst thing is, as soon as the priests heard about this, they swarmed her room. They are in there now, with prayers and incense and other things that I know are not good for a sick room."  
  
"I will go hence directly." Legolas nodded, "The only thing that I regret is that you did not come to speak to me sooner. Have you been in her room?"  
  
"They refused to let me in," Aragorn growled. Legolas patted his shoulder, and reached to unlock the door to Eldarion's room.  
  
"Then go and talk to Eldarion for a bit, my liege lord. I want you nowhere near any of the sick- the King and the heir of Gondor must be protected. If you fall, all is in peril."  
  
"I want to be with Arwen," Aragorn growled.  
  
"I will care for Arwen." Legolas told him softly, "Go to your son, but do not let him know that his mother is unwell... not just yet." Aragorn opened the door reluctantly, and walked inside, leaving the door open. With elven agility, Legolas had it closed, and locked it with a flash.  
  
"Legolas!" Came the angry cry from within the room, "Open this door, immediately!"  
  
"I am sorry, Estel," Legolas told him, "It is the best way."  
  
"Legolas! Legolas, I *order* you to-" Aragorn fell silent as he realised that he had never had any true power over his free-spirited friend. Meanwhile, Eldarion had awoken, and was looking at his father with bemusement.  
  
"Father? What are you doing here?" He asked.  
  
"*Your* elven lover has locked me in this room!" Aragorn snapped, kicking the door rebelliously.  
  
"Father, he is not my *lover*, as you put it." Eldarion snapped, "and what do you mean, we're locked in?" He got out of bed, and tried the door. It clicked with the definite sound of a lock. "Ah. I... see..." He smirked, seeing the plan behind Legolas' scheming.  
  
"He is in so much trouble when I get out of here..." Aragrn muttered, sitting down heavily on Eldarion's wicker chair. His son chuckled, looking over at him.  
  
"He is only doing what is best, Father." Eldarion chuckled at his sire's annoyance, "I suppose he hasn't persuaded Mother yet to come in here. She's a little more tricksy than you."  
  
"Eldarion... your mother... your mother has taken ill," Aragorn said softly.  
  
Cerulean eyes widened, before the Prince squeezed his eyes shut, fighting angry tears.  
  
"I want out." He said abruptly, "I want out of here, now. I have to go and see her."  
  
"The priests refuse to let anyone in- but don't worry, Legolas will chuck them out, soon enough."  
  
Eldarion's tense shoulders loosened at the very mention of the elf's name, which Aragorn noticed with faint amusement.  
  
"Oh, if Legolas is with Mother then she'll be alright," He said with certainty.  
  
"Eldar'... I have known Legolas for ninety years or more." Aragorn said frankly, "He is wonderful, beautiful, everything you see him to be- but he is no miracle-worker. Don't get your hopes up, son."  
  
"I wish Grandfather was here..." Eldarion sighed heavily, looking down at the plush capeted flooring. Aragorn sighed, and nodded.  
  
"Lady Galadriel has replied to our summons. King Thranduil, due to a little prodding from your lover-"  
  
"-Father-"  
  
"- is sending a troupe of healers to us for aid."  
  
"I am glad," Eldarion said abruptly, "Legolas is so tired... he told me that he had never before had to use his healing powers on another."  
  
"I just hope he can hold out..." Aragorn sighed, leaning his dark-haired head back against the chair, and releasing a heavy sigh.  
  
Legolas, now in full ceremonial dress, as there was nothing like clothing that made him look beautiful to make men do as he commanded, approached Arwen's chambers. As Aragorn had said, the wafting stench of incense caught his delicate nose. He came nearer, and saw the room was packed with priests, *priests* of all people, taboo to the Valar, each wafting things under Arwen's nose, saying desperate prayers, or waving candles and incense. He sighed, and the man in front of him turned to look at him.  
  
"This just won't do." He said, and raised his voice. "Out!!" He cried, "Out, all of you!"  
  
"You have not the power to order us from here, Morning Star," One of the priests drawled, looking him over lecherously.  
  
"Would *you* like to take this matter up with King Elessar?" Legolas snapped, "Do you think your incense and chanting would help in what is supposed to be a sickroom?!" His eyes glared at the priests, until even the most arrogant were cowed. They slunk out of the room. Legolas frowned, looking at the state of the room.  
  
"Oh, by the Valar," He snarled, ripping down the heavy black drapes that had been set over the windows.  
  
"Legolas...?" A croak from the bed made him turn, "... Is that you?"  
  
"Yes," The Morning Star smiled brightly, forcing cheerfulness for Arwen's sake, "Let's get some clean air in here, shall we?"  
  
Arwen chuckled weakly, "Thank you."  
  
"You will pardon me for... excusing... those priests, won't you?" Legolas smiled to himself as he ripped down the rest of the drapes, "I mean, after all, I do hope you haven't become a pagan all of a sudden, my Queen."  
  
"Why, no," Arwen replied, "Their very presence was making me feel worse."  
  
"Ugh, Valar take them for all of this," Legolas snapped, picking up scented candles and incense sticks, blowing them out and throwing them blindly towards the corner where the drapes had landed. He then approached the sickbed itself, and sighed. "Arwen, how do you feel?"  
  
"Better even for seeing you, my dear friend," Arwen replied, her voice cracking, "Where are my husband and son? I hope you are keeping them away from here. I have given instructions to the servants to keep the young girls away."  
  
"I have locked them in Prince Eldarion's room," Legolas smiled gently, "I am ensuring they stay away."  
  
"Legolas... I am going to die..." Arwen whispered, "Promise me you will take care of Aragorn, and my little Eldarion... he is but a child yet. Please, Legolas... my oldest, and dearest friend."  
  
"I will do everything in my power to take care of them. But that will not be necessary, for you are not going to die, Arwen," Legolas replied firmly, "As soon as I heard, I sent out messages to Haldir of Lothlorien and Lord Glorfindel. They are both skilled, experienced healers, and together, we can conquer this sickness of yours. So do not fear."  
  
Arwen smiled at the mentioned names. "Thank you," She whispered, slipping into sleep.  
  
"I shall not try anything magical to aid you until Haldir and Glorfindel arrive," Legolas told her, "We are going to try more conventional methods." He looked around in disgust,  
  
"*Honestly*. Who forgot to tell the Men when the Peoples learned that sick people needed clean air and cool rooms to rest in, which were not filled with crowds of people? Yeuch... so uncivilized."  
  
He heard Arwen's gentle giggle, before the Lady was soothed into a full, calming sleep. Legolas smiled, and leaned over to touch her forehead. He winced in sympathy. Arwen was blisteringly hot- she had one of the nastiest fevers Legolas had ever felt. He sighed, and closed the windows again. At least the air was clean now. He went to the door, and called for a servant.  
  
"Yes, Legolas?" The servant smiled at him. As soon as he had arrived at the palace, Legolas had done away with all of the servants calling him 'my Lord', 'my Prince', and 'sir'.  
  
"Could you please bring some blankets, and some firewood and kindling?" He asked politely, "Quickly?"  
  
"Of course," The servant hurried off down the corridor. Legolas began to clear out all of the soot and dirt in the fireplace. As the servant returned, bearing the blankets and a large bucket of firewood and kindling, he cried out in dismay.  
  
"Wait at the door!" Legolas cried.  
  
"Legolas, please, you'll muss your robes... that's work for us servants to do..."  
  
"I will have no-one in this room unless they are Elven, understand?" Legolas told him,  
  
"Now, go down to the Heralds, and tell them that when Haldir of Lothlorien and Glorfindel of Rivendell arrive, they are to be sent directly here as soon as possible." He hastened to the door, taking the burden from the servant, who nodded weakly, and scuttled off down the halls.  
  
Legolas quickly lit a fire and built it up. It started to become stiflingly hot in the room, as Legolas tucked Arwen into the four blankets that the servant had brought for him. Sweating the fever out was his best option, but he wished he wasn't still wearing his ceremonial robes, which were stiff and heavy.  
  
Looking at Arwen, sweat had begun to bead upon her forehead, and she was breathing heavily, which was a good sign. Legolas sighed, wiped his face, and quickly headed out of the room, towards his quarters.  
  
When he returned, he was dressed in a simple healer's uniform, a white tunic and shirt, and swathed veil, which Legolas wore more to be free of the lingering scent of the ghastly incense than to protect from germs. He hair was loosely tied back, to keep it out of his eyes and face. Checking upon Arwen's condition again, he saw that not much had changed. He frowned, and leaned back against the wall, feeling sleepy and despising himself for it.  
  
Hours must have passed, but suddenly, there was a commotion outside the door. On his way back, Legolas had gotten two of the King's Soldiers to be posted at the door, to basically prevent anyone who was not Haldir or Glorfindel from entering.  
  
"Let me in! I demand it! I want to see my mother!"  
  
"Prince Eldarion, it is the orders of both Prince Legolas and Queen Arwen that you should not enter the Lady's chambers at this time. I am sorry, we cannot permit you to enter!"  
  
"I don't accept that! Now, stand aside, or I'll-"  
  
"Eldarion, stop it." Legolas said firmly, "They are only doing their jobs. You should not be anywhere near here, particularly at so late a time in the evening. Go to bed."  
  
"Legolas," Eldarion's eyes softened, seeing the elven beauty in healer's garb, "Will you come out here?"  
  
"You shouldn't be *anywhere* near here," The elf insisted.  
  
"Legolas, please, just come out here and tell me how my mother is."  
  
The two guards exchanged amused glances. The two Princes were obviously in love, and it was quite amusing to watch them, especially in occasions like this.  
  
"I will come to you when Haldir and Glorfindel arrive, and not before," Legolas said stubbornly, "Go back to your chambers, Eldarion, and make sure your royal father goes with you."  
  
"We cannot deny King Aragorn access," The guard told Legolas, "His is a higher station than yours, Prince Legolas."  
  
"I realise." Legolas replied, "Eldarion, go on. Please, listen to me just once..."  
  
Eldarion sighed bitterly, running a hand through his dark hair, his handsome face tense. He had wanted to hold the slender elf, to have Legolas' gentle hands and voice soothe this terrible pain and choking fear. But he did realise that what Legolas was doing now was more important.  
  
He nodded reluctantly, "You will come to me later, right?"  
  
"Of course." Legolas nodded. Eldarion sighed heavily again, and headed off back down the corridor.  
  
"Oh, how sweet." A familiar voice drawled. Legolas smiled warmly- he hadn't known that they had arrived, but then, they *were* Elves. "Legolas has fallen for the Half-Elven Prince."  
  
"Haldir," Legolas laughed, turning to greet his friends, and stopped, taken aback. Once the pair stepped into the light, he could see the dramatic changes in the pair. Haldir, always fairly slender but built, had lost a lot of weight, making him look more like a waif than an elven general. Glorfindel also looked gaunt, but what surprised him more was the thin diagonal scar that cut down between the elven lord's eyes. They were both dressed in the healer's clothes as well.  
  
"Legolas," Glorfindel spoke, "Prince Legolas. How is Lady Arwen?"  
  
"I was attempting to sweat her fever out," Legolas sighed, "It hasn't worked."  
  
"It doesn't," Haldir chuckled, "We've been there, haven't we Glorfindel?"  
  
"We certainly have," Glorfindel replied, "But, you have saved her life in doing so. We'll take it from here, Legolas- you go and rest. You've done well- after all, we all know you're not a healer."  
  
"You better go and talk to that handsome young man who is so *obviously* pining over you first." Haldir told him, and the guards and Glorfindel laughed. Legolas blushed slightly.  
  
"I thank you for getting here so quickly." He said softly, "How did you get here so fast?"  
  
"We've been working in Gondor ever since the plague broke out," Glorfindel replied, "Helping the sick is what we do best."  
  
"It helps us repay the lives we take in battle," Haldir said solemnly, "Get on with you." He looked at the pair of guards, "Tell anyone who comes near this room, *including* King Aragorn, that they are not permitted into this bedroom, and if Aragorn doesn't like it then he can take it up with Lady Galadriel, who arrives in three days."  
  
"The Lady of Light is coming, then?" Legolas turned on his way down the corridor.  
  
"She heard that her granddaughter was ill," Glorfindel said neutrally.  
  
Legolas' brow wrinkled, "But how?-"  
  
Haldir smirked.  
  
"-Oh. Thanks again, Haldir."  
  
"Anytime." The elf drawled, and shut the door in his face. Legolas smiled, and the guards breathed out again. They both looked slightly daunted, and Legolas nodded reassuringly at them.  
  
"You best do as he says," Legolas smiled, "Haldir has no respect for rank or authority- he's given me a couple of knocks over the head for my stupidity in his time, and the same to King Aragorn."  
  
"A most formiddable elf, indeed," One of the guards, Anyar, chuckled. "But lovely."  
  
"And now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me..." Legolas smiled fleetingly in parting, and wandered off down the passageway.  
  
Eldarion sighed heavily, gazing out of the window. Although it was dark, the golden light from the many cleansing fires in Minas Tirith lightened the city to twilight. Taking one last rueful glance out of the window, Eldarion turned away to survey his room. His father had left just minutes before, to sleep, hopefully, instead of bothering Legolas and the elven pair he had seen arriving as he left them.  
  
He sat on the bed, massaging his temples. He couldn't pretend that the brush-off from Legolas didn't hurt- because it did. He'd looked into the beautiful emerald eyes, which usually held amusement and warmth, and got the distinct message, 'I have no time for you now.' He knew that he shouldn't be upset or jealous... Legolas was fighting to save Eldarion's own mother. But still, he felt the irritating feelings creeping up on him again.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. He stood up, asking,  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"It's me," Legolas said softly. Eldarion moved to the door, opening it quickly. Legolas stood there before him- Eldarion noticed dimly that he'd changed his clothing again from the healer's uniform to more simple, cream and blue shirt and tunic.  
  
"Legolas," He said sadly. Pain screamed in his cerulean eyes.  
  
"Eldarion, Eldarion..." Legolas whispered, wrapping his arms around the young half-elf, "I am so sorry."  
  
"Mother will be alright, won't she?" Eldarion's arms encircled the elf's slender waist, their eyes meeting, his voice desperate, "She's going to be fine, right? Right, love?"  
  
Legolas said nothing, his delicate face filled with pain and sympathy. Eldarion choked back a sob.  
  
"She will be alright... please, tell me she's going to be alright..."  
  
The golden-haired elf said nothing, just pulled the young Prince's head down to his shoulder and let Eldarion cry out his grief for his beloved mother. 


	3. A Favour From The Valar

One Last Farewell  
  
Chapter 3: In Health  
  
Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own. But then, I'm sure you knew that, being omniscient and omnipotent as I'm sure you all are, and that you know that Lord of the Rings belongs to J. R. Tolkien.  
  
Right, Chapter 3. And yes, I do know I shouldn't be starting another big story when I'm about to finish the first part of All That Glitters, but I just can't help myself. I love this story! Also, I'm aware that the formatting on the last chapter was, frankly, bollocks, and therefore I have edited it. So sorry. I used to write my stories in Notepad, but the formatting is beggared, so I'm using Microsoft Word now.  
  
In Chapter 3, we have mucho angst. Arwen fights for her life with aid from Glorfindel and Haldir, who call for aid from the Valar. Yay! The appearance of another Valar in my fics! Not Manwe, Ulmo or Elbereth this time, it's Mandos who makes an appearance. Legolas tries- and fails- to console Eldarion, and Aragorn. well, read to find out.  
  
Pairings: Eldarion/Legolas, Aragorn/Arwen, Glorfindel/Haldir.  
  
Enjoy! Muchas gracias! Oh, and review please!!  
  
-Nefthoron  
  
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Haldir breathed deeply, catching the faint scent of incense in the air, but said nothing, instead placing a cool hand on Arwen's forhead, feeling the scalding heat that burned within her. He sighed. He hated nothing more than healing this plague.  
  
The Sapping Sickness had affected humans before. Not only it kill those who were infected by it, any elven healer who tried to heal it would slowly have their life, their strength sapped away by the illness.  
  
But, working as a pair with Glorfindel, who was a long-accomplished healer and much wiser to healing than Haldir himself was, made the burden of the illness easier. Last time the Sapping Sickness struck Gondor, Haldir had been too young to help, and that had grieved him sorely over the years. But, faced with it now, he felt only fear.  
  
Glorfindel bent over Arwen, and her clouded blue-grey eyes opened. Arwen's lips were cracking with the heat that burned within, the fever that would destroy her. Haldir hugged his arms to himself, as Glorfindel spoke soothingly to Arwen.  
  
"Arwen?" He said softly, "Can you hear me?"  
  
"Yes. but I cannot. I cannot see you." Arwen whispered.  
  
Haldir whimpered silently. That was one of the first signs that the illness was taking a life, the loss of sight.  
  
"'Tis Glorfindel and Haldir, Arwen," Glorfindel said softly, "We will aid you."  
  
"It is too late," Arwen murmured, "Save your strength for those who will need it. For the people."  
  
"Arwen, we are not going to let you die." Haldir said firmly, "Come, Glorfindel. Let us try the Calling spell."  
  
"The Calling.? Haldir, that is far too dangerous!" Arwen cried, her voice a dry croak. Glorfindel took a glass of water from the bedstand and held it to her lips. She drank a little, as Glorfindel spoke,  
  
"It has worked in the past," The tall elven warrior's lips curved in a soft smile, "and besides, Lord Mandos owes me many favours after what I was put through."  
  
"Then we use the Calling," Haldir nodded, and straightened. Glorfindel walked around the bed to stand beside him, and took hold of his hand, pulling the shorter elf to him.  
  
"What- what are you doing?" Arwen asked worriedly.  
  
"A pair of healers do things differently, Arwen," Glorfindel told her, "I use Haldir's life-energy to Call and support him with my own."  
  
Haldir sighed, leaning his head back on Glorfindel's shoulder,  
  
"Do get it over with. I hate this, I really do."  
  
Glorfindel frowned slightly, his strong hand reaching up to brush his partner's face, looking down at him with worried cerulean eyes.  
  
"You do not trust me?"  
  
"I trust you with my life, Glorfindel." Haldir spoke seriously, "With my life and more than my life."  
  
"Diola lle, melamin," Glorfindel whispered, and closed his eyes.  
  
Arwen's eyes widened as everything dimmed. She coughed violently, feeling her throat crack, and then her eyes slowly drifted shut, feeling the death- spell fall across her again, and darkness began to take her.  
  
Glorfindel awakened in a different reality. He sat up slowly, and looked down at the lifeless form of Haldir by his side. He gently brushed gold- silver hair away from Haldir's face, and then pressed a hand to his back. White light glimmered there, and Haldir began to breathe again. Glorfindel smiled in relief. He always worried that one time, it would not work, and Haldir would never return to him.  
  
"Again?" The familiar voice spoke quietly to him, "Again, you endanger all that is precious to you? When the Valar give you a gift such as this precious elf, you constantly insist upon endangering him?"  
  
"I have nothing to fear for the Ritual, Lord Mandos, and neither does Haldir. You would never take him from me, not after that particular grave mistake you made of me." Glorfindel said, "I have come here to ask you a favour."  
  
"Another favour, Glorfindel? Even the patience of the Valar has its limits. A grave hurt I dealt you by accident, but you take advantage mercilessly." A sound like a sigh came from the darkness, "You need to understand that not all can live. The Lady Arwen has forsaken the gifts of the Firstborn and has become what she should not. I can do nothing for her but give her time."  
  
"Time? How much time?"  
  
"A week, nothing more, nothing less."  
  
Glorfindel cast his eyes down.  
  
"Is there truly a cure to be found, my Lord?"  
  
"Indeed there is, but you must travel far to find it. In the deepest Wood of Greenleaves you will find a plant called Aurelie. Use it well."  
  
Mandos began to fade away, and Glorfindel cried out,  
  
"No longer than a week to reach the depths of Eryn Lasgalen?!"  
  
"Two I give you. But no more favours shall be granted to you." Mandos' voice was faint, and then even fainter, "Advice I give to you, Glorfindel- do not use Haldir to travel here again. He grows weaker now. You will lose him."  
  
The world got just a bit darker, and Glorfindel fell to the endless darkness over Haldir's prone form.  
  
Minutes later, he sat up, again in the bedroom of the Lady Arwen, and looked down at the peaceful face of his partner.  
  
"Haldir? Awaken, nin-meleth." Glorfindel whispered, gently kissing the Lorien elf's forehead.  
  
"Nmwha." Haldir sat up blearily, blinking his eyes open and yawning heavily, "What did Mandos say?"  
  
"We have two weeks to find the Aurelie plant in Eryn Lasgalen." Glorfindel said, "That which will cure the Lady Arwen and more besides. Otherwise, she will fall."  
  
"Then Legolas must be sent for immediately," Haldir said decisively, "He grew up in the Greenwood- he will be able to aid us."  
  
"Aragorn will also wish to go." Glorfindel counselled.  
  
"What of it?" Haldir frowned.  
  
"Aragorn, although still strong, has been riding a chair for far too long." Glorfindel shook his head, "Also, he needs to stay here. His kingdom needs him most right now. Also, the only ones who should travel should be the elven-kind, so no Man will catch the sickness."  
  
"Very well," Haldir nodded, "I will find Legolas and we will make plans to leave in secret, immediately."  
  
Legolas sighed softly, sitting on Eldarion's bed. The taller half-elf sat beside him, his eyes fully downcast and swollen with grief. The elf's emerald eyes were filled with worry as he turned to wrap his arms around the Prince's waist, leaning his head against Eldarion's chest,  
  
"Please do not despair, Eldarion." He said softly, "To despair is to give up. You cannot give up on your mother!"  
  
"She is going to die," Eldarion whispered, "and nothing you can say will change that!"  
  
"Eldarion, please-"  
  
"Legolas, be quiet." The dark-haired Prince snapped, pulling away, "You cannot say anything to make me feel better. So do not try."  
  
"Eldarion-"  
  
Eldarion yelled, "Stop! Just- just stop! You can do NOTHING!!! She is going to DIE! Just get out and leave me alone!"  
  
Legolas stood up, looking away.  
  
"As you wish," He murmured, heading for the door.  
  
Eldarion turned to look at him, "No, Legolas, I-"  
  
The elf was gone.  
  
Aragorn stood on the balcony, a glass of red wine in his hand as he surveyed his broken kingdom. Fires were lit all over Minas Tirith, cleansing fires to burn away the city's sickness, but it would not work. Nothing would.  
  
And now, his beautiful, precious Arwen would leave him too. His fingers travelled to the Evenstar that still hung around his neck.  
  
"If you can trust nothing else, trust us. trust this."  
  
"How can I trust in you if you are gone, Arwen?" Aragorn whispered, bowing his head. He raised his glass to the city, his shoulders shaking from suppressed mirth.  
  
"Here's to you, Gondor. To you, Arwen. To all the dead." 


End file.
